


Out of Sight in the Night

by cosmic_medusa



Series: Two in the Snow [2]
Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Curtain Fic, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 14:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_medusa/pseuds/cosmic_medusa
Summary: Freddy has a nightmare. Larry tells him a bedtime story. Should readOne for the Money, Two in the Snowfirst.





	Out of Sight in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for a nightmare fic. And a 'verse. Should read [One for the Money, Two in the Snow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513411) first. Title from ["Little Green Bag."](https://genius.com/George-baker-selection-little-green-bag-lyrics)

**CANADA, JANUARY** 2008****

_Orange is fucking _coated_ in blood, calling for him over and over like he’s some sort of miracle worker, a dying weight in his arms. _

_“Hold on,” he soothes, over and over. “Hold on, hold on. Everything’ll be alright.’_

_The kid is looking up at him, begging him to fix it, fix _him_, make the job go as it should have—in and out, no one thinking twice, no bullets fired, no dead team, no dead cops, no dead Eddie and Joe. Simple, with a big fat cut. An easy gig that had brought them together. He’d already been thinking of other little jobs they could do, where the kid could learn the ropes, where they’d have an excuse to be together._

_But it’s all undone with pain and panic. It’s all he can hear—the sounds of pain and panic. Orange just wants him to make it better, make _him_ better, and all Larry can do is hold on and murmur comforting words and stroke his face with a blood-smeared hand. He loves him. He loves him and he doesn’t know why, after so short a time, but they’re drawn to one another, were before this shitstorm, two souls up and lost. Guys like them can’t trust, can’t bond, can’t care, but Orange and White want to. And together, they finally can._

_He just needs the fuckin’ kid to stop _bleeding_…_

Larry comes awake with a start, those awful sounds from the past happening all over, beside him. It doesn’t take him long to orient himself—owner’s apartment, Canada, bedroom, Freddy—and realize where those sounds are coming from. He reaches for his bedside table, switches on the light and winces at it, then turns over to find Orange straining and writhing in his sleep.

“No,” the younger man sobs, then tosses his head and babbles.

“Freddy,” Larry soothes. “C’mon and wake up now. Wake up, babe, you’re dreaming.”

His partner twists as if in pain, lets out a sob. “_Larry_!”

“Right here.” He shakes him, gently. “C’mon, buddy-boy. Wake up and look at me. It doesn’t hurt anymore, not here. You’re all healed up.”

Tears slide down the younger man’s face, but his eyes open slightly.

“There you go,” he smiles, strokes the floppy hair. “You’re in there, I know it. C’mon back now. We’re nice and safe here, promise.”

“Larry.”

“I’m here. You with me?”

Freddy let out a sob. “She had a baby.”

“I know, honey. It was an accident.”

The kid starts to cry, hard and for real, his whole body shaking. Larry scoots close, puts an arm around him and presses lips to his temple.

“We’re okay,” he murmurs. “You’re a good man, Freddy Newandyke.”

“I want to die. It hurts too much—I want to die.”

“Shut the fuck up with that shit.” Larry pulls away enough to try and roll the younger man on his side.

“Larry, don’t leave me!”

“I’m not leaving you—turn over, I’ll rub your back.”

“No,” he moaned. “I can’t feel you.”

“I’m right here, buddy-boy,” Larry swings a leg over Freddy’s and works his arm under the floppy blonde head. “Right here. I got you.”

“I want to go away,” Freddy sobs.

“So we go away,” Larry murmurs. “Anywhere you want.”

“Somewhere without guns. I don’t want to hear them. I don’t want to look at them.”

Larry leans forward, rests his head on the younger man’s, breathes warm on his ear. “No problem,” he murmurs. “We can go to Norway. It’s cold, but it’s beautiful. Get a fishing boat, take the tourists out. Or we could go to Denmark, do the same. Go to Switzerland, open up a watch store. I don’t care what those Swiss bastards think—no one values or knows more about watches than an American crook.”

Freddy laughs, tears laden in his voice, and pushes back into Larry’s chest. The elder man slides him close.

“Or we can go to Greece—it’s warmer there, and the food’s better. We’ll get a boat named ‘Mr. Blue.’ Everyone will think that’s clever. We’ll drink white wine and eat shrimp and be sunburnt.

“Or we can go further South—Italy. Open up an American grill. Think about it—ribs, steaks, burgers, counteract all that damn pasta. They’ll be all over us. We don’t like it, we’ll move on—India, China, Korea, you name it. No one can grill like me. We’ll make a killing—they’ll write us up in travel books. We’ll get a houseboat and travel all over when we get bored. They’ll smell us coming.”

“Cows are sacred in India,” Freddy murmurs. “You can’t eat them.”

“Even better. People will want to eat them _because_ they’re forbidden.”

Freddy chuckles. “Where else?” he asks.

“Thailand, but not too long—I’d eat too much, you’d be too hot for the girls." That brings a genuine laugh out of Freddy. "We’ll go down to New Zealand and Australia; it’s like here, but warmer. Everyone’s nice. They’d like us down there, tough guys with a grill game. I’ll get one of those not-quite-cowboy hats. We’ll drive tourists to see the kangaroos and shit. Get a little boat, kill sharks on the weekends. I’ll give the tourists Quint’s speech from _Jaws_ and they’ll tip the shit out of us.”

Blue leaps onto the bed, stares at the shivering Freddy, climbs up his torso, and sits herself on his head. That brings a laugh out of both men, while Blue closes her eyes, content.

“Sorry, baby girl, that’s not gonna work for us,” Larry says, scooping her up and depositing her at Freddy’s side. The younger man twists around to press his face to the elder man’s chest, and the cat whines but quickly cuddles against his back.

“What if we get bored in Australia?” Freddy murmurs. 

“We'll go to Hong Kong. Then China. We skirt around Russia, head over the ocean to Alaska. Show the tourists the seals and polar bears. Then back to Mexico, real quick, just for us—tacos and tequila, just like our honeymoon phase. Then all over South America—we barely touched it. The Bahamas are perfect for us. We’ll do Jamaica, Cuba, build up a following, then set sail to Spain. Then Portugal—we’ll bounce back and forth over the border. I’ll try my hand at bullfighting—what do you think?”

“Bull’ll kill you.”

Larry chuckles. “Now is that fuckin’ supportive? Pretty sure you’re supposed to say ‘go for it, I believe in you.’”

“Hm,” Freddy sighs, snuggled against him. “‘a’love you.”

Larry kisses him on the forehead, but he's already asleep. The cat yawns and looks at him with serious eyes.

“Or we could stay right here, huh Mrs. Blue?” he asks. She meowes at him, then turns away and lays her head down. Larry brushes Freddy’s hair back and presses a second kiss to his forehead. “Sounds good,” he sighs, and reaches for the light. “Let's all just stay right here.”


End file.
